Resident Evil 5: A Possibility
by Zombiehugger
Summary: Just my idea on the beginning of RE5. EDIT: Here is the second chapter I wrote just before the game came out, it's how I thought the game might end up like. I never finished it, but I hope anyone who reads this enjoys how I saw the game at first.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Please keep in mind that I haven't seen much about RE5 and so am drawing my own conclusions and story-wise I don't know if any of this will make any sense. So, please take all of this for granted when I discuss time-sensitive materials.

It's funny how things can get out of hand when you least expect them to. I was still a bit out-of-breath when he came and blocked my only escape route. There were at least thirty of those things behind me, running to catch up and rip my head off, screaming random obscenities I'd learned from my brief stay in Africa. I pulled back the forearm on my shotgun and looked into the empty magazine tube. Silently I cursed, trying not to give my position away.

A long, dark shadow passed in front of the hovel where I was laying low. Stifling a cry of surprise, I slid back into the shadows of the building. Long, shallow breaths came to me in ragged pulls and yet I was able to keep almost imperceptibly silent; it was a trick I picked up in my day-to-day training that allowed me to sneak up on my sparing partners. As quietly as possible, I pushed my useless weapon onto my back and withdrew my pistol. I had plenty of ammunition for it, but I wondered if it was enough.

He turned to where I knew Sheva was hiding and eyeing the opening of the building, walked closer towards the entrance. The distance between them was covered in a matter of a few long strides. I could hear the scraping of his enormous axe dragging along the sandy ground like the scratching of death itself clawing its way into my mind. I followed the line it made in the sand with my eyes, trying to force my mind to wrap around what was happening. Focusing on where I knew Sheva was and how long I heard the scraping, I calculated a rough estimate of where he was.

Slowly I knelt down to the ground with pistol in hand and shimmied closer to the opening of the hovel. I poked my head out shallowly, just so I could see enough to gauge the situation. What I saw, I don't think I will ever forget. The creature (that's the only term that seems reasonable to use) had picked up one of the mutated dogs, threw it up into the sky, and watched it fall limply to the ground with a sickening, liquid crunch. The dog's neck was obviously broken, but the creature didn't seem to notice. With its over-sized foot, the creature began to squeeze the dog's innards out from whatever orifice was available, like a horrifying tube of grotesque toothpaste. Dark brown goo oozed out at first, and then in quick succession a mutated version of a heart and stomach squirted out, followed closely by two large, sinewy lungs and a long dilapidated coil of intestines.

The creature picked up the intestines and smeared them on its axe, hoisting the weapon into the air, swirling it around in a long sinuous circle. Within seconds three large birds drifted towards the axe, flying in a triangular pattern, undulating softly in the air as they moved. Loud caws pierced through the noise of the crowd closing the gap between them and me. I knew then that I was going to die; I knew I only had one choice I could make—how I was going to die.

It wasn't much of a choice I admit, but I'm getting ahead of myself. You asked me how I got into this mess, and here I am telling you about how I was going to die. Well, I'll tell you now that it's not that much more of a cheery story than my inevitable death. Regardless, I'll tell you.

It was five months prior to that scene that it all started. I was standing at her grave, paying my last respects. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't grasp the idea that she was actually dead. I survived mission after mission with Jill; she lasted through three zombie attacks—two of which were with me—and she dies by a "stray" bullet from a lone gunman during an assault on one of Wesker's labs in South America. I was sort of an emotional wreck at that point. I loved Jill, maybe just as a partner or maybe more, I'm not sure and I'm not willing to dwell on the subject anymore. Despite my feelings one way or the other, my partner was dead and even if it was indirectly, Wesker was at fault.

While I was still at the grave-side, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see a blurry vision of Barry standing over me. A frown creased the sides of his mouth, his eyes were red and I could make out the stains from the tears that dried up recently. He squeezed my shoulder and gave me a reassuring pat before walking off a few feet. He stopped and turned around.

"When you're ready, come and see me if you want to take care of this matter." And with that, he disappeared into the graveyard as the clouds opened up and the rain began to pour. I stood and stared down at her grave, watching the flowers I brought bounce and collect water with each drop of rain that hit them. I made my decision there that I would do anything to take Wesker down. He had a lifetime's worth of deceit and murder that made him worthy of death, but this was unforgivable.

Barry was sitting in the passenger's seat of a decrepit pick-up truck. As I opened the driver's side door, he pulled out a hip flask from the glove compartment and took a long swig, and then offered it to me. I stared for a second before taking the flask and drinking in a long gulp. It burned all the way down.

"What did you mean 'taking care of this'?" I asked, handing him back the bottle. He took a long swig before answering.

"There's a group that you might be interested in talking to, they specialize in preventing and stopping biological terrorist attacks generated by Umbrella's research. Heard of them?"

I knew who he was talking about, the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance or the BSAA for short. They have branches in the United States that had come asking for my help after the Raccoon City incident. I was reluctant to join, but offered my services in training their recruits and preparing them for anything. When they first came to me though, they were very much an underground organization and the only reason I didn't join them was that I was a face that many could pick out of a crowd. I'd bring a level of infamy to their organization that they couldn't handle at the time. I didn't want to get into the details with Barry, but I suspect that he knew already anyway, it was his form of courtesy to pretend not to know everything about me.

"Yeah, I've heard of them, they've visited me on more than one occasion. I helped them with training and planning but nothing more. Why do you bring them up now?" Barry gave me a sideways glance and screwed the top back on the flask.

"They're going on the offensive in a few months; they're tired of waiting to be attacked and instead are going to root out the terrorists themselves." This came as a shock to me; everything I've told them was to make sure they just prevented small terrorists from attacking cities or villages and wait for Wesker to show. I knew that he was the one dispensing the viral materials and other biological weapons, and if we were to take him down, then the others would follow. It just didn't make sense that they would go and try something so stupid.

"So, I'm assuming you want me on the next plain to wherever the hell they're going? Come on Barry you know that Wesker is too smart for any of that. He won't just up and show himself now that the whole world is looking for him. He's got to do things in the shadows, keep a low profile while pulling the strings from the back."

Barry scrunched his face as if I had just put some smelling salt under his nose. "Chris, I'm not stupid will you please just hear me out? I'm not saying that you should just run off with them. I'm saying that it's about time that they get better organized. There are undercurrents of unrest rippling through their ranks. If they don't have someone to look up to who's been through these types of incidents, then what good will they do? Just go to them and convince them to hold off until they found him. For God's sake Chris, this is an international organization that you can work with. How have you been doing by yourself?"

"I'm not by myself!" I spit back. It didn't come out the way I wanted it to and I could see that Barry didn't take it the right way either.

"You're right, how is Kirk?" Barry wasn't supposed to know about him, but I could see that his professional courtesy was wearing off. Kirk was a helicopter pilot I befriended in the mission to Russia. He flew Jill and I into the thick of things on that first important step to taking Umbrella down. Ever since then, he and I went on mission after mission together. He hadn't let me down yet.

"He's fine; he's getting married soon." Barry snorted.

"Good for him. Listen Chris, just think about it, okay?" Barry opened the door and stepped out of the car. Before shutting the door, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small card. "This is where you can find them, if you change your mind. Oh and be careful, the road's slippery."

"Wait-" Barry slammed the door shut before I could finish. "Who's truck is this?"

I watched as Barry walked back into the graveyard a few feet. A black sedan pulled up, stopped to pick him up and sped off down the road. Groaning loudly, I looked around at the truck, looking for some hint to whoever owned the truck. As I opened the visor above me, the keys fell out onto my lap. On the key ring, I saw my old dog tags from the Air Force. For some reason, the torrent of emotions running through me cleared and I broke out laughing. Barry was truly an enigma, I didn't know who he was working for or how he knew what he knew, but I was thankful.

For the next few months, I worked closely with the BSAA. It took me longer than I had hoped to quell the desire to attack from the masses. Many of the men and women felt as if they were just standing around, waiting to be killed by some "asshole in a tower". After calming them down, convincing them that it wasn't beneficial to just go around and declare war on every little bioterrorist, hoping to get to Wesker each time.

I remember most of the meetings were trying on my patience. These were (mostly) trained ex-military members, yet they were scared and unused to these types of enemies. I had to re-inform them of their basic training. It was a long few months before they started getting antsy again. Just as it was becoming really difficult for me to contain their anxiety, we got a lucky break.

One of our African branches spotted an unregistered convoy traveling along a route that we monitor. They made the call to their headquarters, which in turn called us. I told them to look into it and a few weeks later, we had pictures of boxes being unloaded by what looked like mercenaries. Each of the crates had the Tricell logo painted on them and I remembered Claire telling me about the incident in the Airport. Tricell had bought up the largest share in what remained of Umbrella's weapons materials. It wasn't hard for me to connect the dots and see where Wesker's hands had been.

After about a month's preparations, I was standing in front of a military transport plane with my gear packed in a bag on my back. Shaking my head, I walked through the open rear loading dock of the plane and sat on a seat next to Gregory, the man who organized the whole expedition.

"Is this really necessary?" I asked him. "We're only taking three guys over."

He gave me a funny look and then glanced over to all of the materials we brought with us. "Chris, look at all the stuff we need." He waved a hand over the piles of crates and tarps behind us. "There are hazmat suits, trucks, guns, and a shit load of ammo. Of course we need this."

"I'm just worried about having our presence known."

"Chris, trust me these planes come in all the time. It will just serve to hide us even better than if we went in with a bush plane."

Begrudgingly, I shrugged and acquiesced that he had to be right. Gregory shook his head and looked back down at the book he was reading. With nothing else to do, I looked over a bit and tried to surreptitiously glance at what he was reading. It looked to be a book about the native area of where we were going, things the curious adventurer would need to know. Indigenous snakes, poisonous and nonpoisonous, edible flora, weather related conditions, some key phrases you might want to know, and things like that.

"That might come in handy." I noted, indicating the book.

"Yeah, I know a lot about the area, but it doesn't hurt to refresh every once and a while, you know?" He gave a sort of chuckle and pointed to the book. "Take this for example, we not only have to watch out for whatever enemies of ours are out there, but there are two factions battling each other out there: the Shetanieusi and the Jeshiekundu."

"Great, do we know exactly where they are fighting, or if we'll be anywhere near any of the territories?" I asked, not wanting to be in the middle of a war I wasn't involved in.

"Well, some skirmishes tend to come close to the village we are heading to, but for the most part they are a few kilometers away from us."

"How many is a 'few'?" From what I knew about Gregory, he was infamous for understating a problem and unless you got him to give you specifics, you could end up in a real mess.

"About ten kilometers, give or take two kilometers." He flipped through the book before confirming the ten kilometer cushion. That made me feel a bit better, ten kilometers was a far enough away that we could get radio contact about any possible fighting that would be coming our way and move out before it reached us.

Feeling suddenly tired, I put my head back and fell into a fitful sleep, punctuated by images of Jill lying in a pool of her own blood, calling my name. I tried to run to her, but before I could a gunshot rang out in the ephemeral darkness. Streaks of red liquid burst from her chest as more blood cascaded down her nearly lifeless body, augmenting the pool of blood below her. I tried to hold her in my arms and comfort her as she slipped further into Death's cold grasp, but my hands wouldn't work and when I finally had her cradled against my chest, she faded right through my arms and fell back to the ground. All the while, I couldn't stop her from dying.

With a heavy _thud_, the plane jostled me awake. I looked over to Gregory who was still examining the book he had brought with him. "How much farther?" I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes.

"A few hours I think, you were out for a good five hours." And with that he slipped back into the book. Wearily, I got to my feet and decided to check on the gear to calm my already shoddy nerves. Battling the turbulence, I made my way over to the tarps that were covering the munitions. I lifted a flap and saw that everything was in order. The crates had clear markings on them indicating that make and model of weapons they housed.

"You okay?" A mild Southern accent came from behind me. I turned to see Kirk standing with a look of concern etched on his face.

"Yeah, I just had that dream again." Kirk was becoming somewhat of a confidant for me. I told him about how I felt about Jill's death and how it made me feel helpless in the face of our common enemy. He was also the first person I told about refusing to allow Claire to pursue this Anti-Bioterrorism movement any further. Kirk was also the person who told me how stupid that was, that if I didn't allow her to help me, she would do it on her own. Ultimately, Kirk became the friend I thought I had in Wesker and Barry.

"I understand...but you've got to understand that there was nothing you could do. How much longer are you going to beat yourself up before you let it go?"

"I'll stop when I've beaten Wesker."

"Then do it." Kirk stared at me for a little while before clapping me on the back and returning to his seat. His words stuck with me for the rest of the flight.


	2. Chapter 2

We touched down in an abandoned airstrip a few kilometers south of the village. I was not prepared for the intense heat and almost instantly broke a sweat.

"Phew, Chris it's hotter than your sister down here." Kirk said as he passed me, carrying a crate of handguns. I knew he was just trying to lighten my mood, but despite my best effort to resist, it did.

"Hey, watch it, I've taken on the living dead, I think I can handle you."

"Yeah, but can she?" Kirk let out a hardy laugh, almost letting the crate fall.

"You'd be surprised my friend." I shook my head, returning to the plane to grab my gear. I put on my weapon holster and the adjoining belt before leaving the plane once more. As I was exiting, a welcoming team from the African BSAA branch was arriving. They were a few minutes in the distance, so I busied myself with procuring a handgun from the armaments we brought with us. Quickly checking to make sure everything was in order, I ejected the clip and noted that it was full and checked the slide to see if it moved easily.

I looked up in time to see three cars idling before me. In each car were two people, one driving and the other sitting in the passenger's seat with a rifle. It wasn't exactly what I was expecting, but I figured that they needed to keep their guard up at every moment. One of the men in the lead vehicle stepped out and addressed us.

"Who is in charge?" His voice was rough, but commanding. I stepped forward and holstered my handgun.

"I am," I said, offering him my hand in greeting. He ignored my offer and went on to brief me on his orders.

"We are here to take you to our larger subsidiary. There they will brief you on everything that has happened and is happening." He turned towards the cars. "If you will please follow us, we will-"

He never finished his sentence. A deafening explosion erupted behind us as one of the plane's engines exploded in a fiery rain of shrapnel and propeller parts. Everyone scattered, running for whatever cover they could find. The explosions never let up though as the plane wrenched in two, causing the other engine to blow. There was a cacophony of screams, curses and prayers.

"What the hell is going on?" I heard Kirk shout somewhere off to my left. As the smoke began to clear, I saw something that will haunt my nightmares. A swirling, sinuous cloud of black tentacle-like vines curled and righted itself before my eyes. It pulsated as it moved, snaking back and forth as it divined its way toward us.

"In the cars!" I instinctively yelled as my body moved on its own. My legs stumbled, nearly forcing me to the ground as I ran full-force towards the lead car. The man who had addressed me jumped into the passenger's seat while I climbed onto the back, where a mounted gun was positioned facing the rear.

Echoing in the afternoon sky, a loud screech came from the creature as it coiled itself. In an instant, the cars roared to life and started to move, but it wasn't fast enough. The car off to my right peeled back as the creature shot itself through the engine and into the occupants themselves. A cloud of oil and blood mixed together with the air right before the car wrenched itself in two, followed by a ball of fire.

"Go, go, go! Move your ass!" I was screaming without realizing what I was saying. I grabbed hold of the gun, not only to steady myself, but to prepare for the fight ahead of me. We were trying to move to the forest, hoping that maybe the creature wouldn't be able to maneuver between the trees, but I had my doubts about that refuge.

With a few quick movements, the two remaining cars were facing the other direction and were moving at break-neck speeds towards the trees. I gave the other car a cursory glance, trying to see if Kirk had made it. Thankfully, I saw him sitting in the back of the other car, talking to Gregory, trying to keep him calm.

I swung the gun around and tried to adjust my eyes to the light reflecting off of the barrel. For some reason, I couldn't see the monster but I knew it was there. Staring at the oily smoke billowing up from the car that didn't make it, I tried to make out if there was anything moving. Unfortunately, I didn't have to wait long to find out.

"To the right!" One of the men shouted in the car. I turned accordingly and saw the creature serpentining at ludicrous speeds next to us. The gun let out a melodic rat-tat-tat as it chugged away. At the time I couldn't tell if the bullets were even doing any harm because the creature kept moving at a steady pace. Suddenly, the creature changed direction and tried to ram into us using its massive body.

The driver swerved out of the way, applying the brakes to prevent a collision. With the creature on the opposite side, I turned around once more and continued my firing, praying the bullets were at least causing it some sort of pain.

The tentacles contracted and expanded, propelling it faster and faster. For a moment I almost lost hope that we could make it to the forest before this thing killed us. I thought about how we had just gotten here and already we were doomed to die. In a blink of an eye, the creature changed course again, this time targeting the other car that had gotten in front of us. I could see Kirk grab Gregory as he nearly toppled out of the car.

Bullets tore through the web of tentacle-like appendages in a gory fog of purple fluid. The creature roared and reared its pulsating head for an instant before pushing it back into the protective layer of tentacles. I heard my ear piece crackle and then Kirk's voice over the radio.

"Did you see that Chris? Aim for the head when it comes out." His voice was tinny over the radio, but I nodded my understanding even if he couldn't see me.

"If you get it to show its head, I'll make sure it doesn't want to try it a second time."

"Just make sure it doesn't get a second time." Kirk's voice was stern, but I was sure I heard a bit of fear seeping through.

The machine gun on the other car whirled to life a moment before an onslaught of bullets sprayed from the three barrels. From what I could see, the gunner was having a difficult time keeping his aim steady while trying to compensate for the movements of the car. For a split second realization hit me. These men weren't trained soldiers; they were regular people who had enough of the Bio-weapons. MY mind couldn't fathom how they were keeping their calm in this situation, but there was something deeper gnawing at my mind. Would they be able to keep us alive here?

Before I could give the question anymore thought, the creature was riddled with momentary holes where the bullets had passed through the squishy layer of tentacles. Shifting and squirming rapidly, the surrounding areas covered over the exposed skeletal structure of the creature. I thought I saw what looked like a human so emaciated that it might as well have been a corpse underneath the layers of squid-like tentacles.


End file.
